The Symmetry of Women
by Imtiaz
Summary: The story of a maid and her mistress in post-war Downton. Rated M for very strong adult content. You have been warned!
1. The Idea

_A/N: This is my first attempt at writing Cora/ O'Brien so not sure if I'm going to do them justice! (Also, just to say, I still totally love Cora and Robert!)._

_I own none of the characters etc. Also, this may contain spoilers from series two._

* * *

><p><strong>Part One: The Idea<strong>

O'Brien drew the jug above her mistress's head as Cora instinctively leant back, the line of her neck distracting O'Brien for the briefest moment, before she tipped the jug and watched the warm water pour through Cora's tresses and cascade down her back. The last of the bubbles seeped downwards, pooling at the line where her mistress' skin met the water's surface. The maid placed the jug next to the stool beside her and laid her palms on her ladyship's scalp, moving her hands along the hair before wrapping the locks around her fist and squeezing the remaining droplets out. Cora sighed as the other woman released her hair from her grasp, leaving it to lay in one long twist.

"Is there a particular dress you would like to wear today, m'lady?" O'Brien asked, taking an extra moment than necessary to sit at the stool.

"No...You may choose," she said nonchalantly staring ahead of her.

"Do you have anything planned?" O'Brien asked, collecting the jug from her side.

Cora let out a small, wry laugh. "Hardly," she said, swirling her fingertips in the water. The sadness in her voice was not lost on O'Brien, neither was the way stray droplets leaked from the ends of her hair and ebbed down her back like lonely teardrops. "I can look forward to a long day of resting on the chaise long, staring at the beige walls and observing my husband's waning affections."

O'Brien, as well as almost all of Downton's occupants were privy to distractions of his Lordship, after what had started as a rumour borne of Thomas, soon became an apparent truth to whoever saw Jane and his Lordship within ten feet of each other. But Cora was ignorant to the true extent of her husband's 'waning affections'.

There was no response that O'Brien was able to offer and instead she distracted herself by standing and heading over to the sink to replace the jug. She collected a warm towel from the side and returned to her mistress, noticing the way her skin had begun to pimple with the cool air that surrounded them. Wordlessly, she unfolded the towel and held it open to the span of her arms, awaiting Cora to complete the routine that they went through each and every morning- a routine that was perhaps the most calming and companionable in each of their entire days. Her ladyship clenched her fingers to the sides of the bath, pulling herself up slowly as the water swished around her sudden absence. The gentle sound of droplets pattering down filled the silence as O'Brien leant forward to wrap the towel around her mistress's slender frame, bringing the corner round to tuck in atop her breast.

Cora caught her maid's eye, observing her deeply for a moment; she felt blessed to have O'Brien's presence in her life and admittedly quite humbled that her maid seemed to reserve a special grace and care for her benefit only. Everybody thought O'Brien to be a cold, hard woman, embittered by a past she never spoke of, but Cora was the only one who saw the another side- the care, the devotion and utter selflessness she had shown, only for her happiness.

O'Brien caught the eye of her mistress; her dark damp lashes made her eyes an even more piercing shade of blue and she found herself lost in the sadness of them. She held her hands out for her ladyship to grasp, a gesture she'd found herself doing ever since that fateful day of the fall, despite the years that had past. Cora gratefully wrapped her fingers around the other woman's; the fierceness of her grasp not unnoticed by O'Brien as she matched her hold with a quiet strength of reassurance. Cora took slowly stepped out; her gaze momentarily stolen by the tiled floor and the shades of red that still lingered in her mind's eye.

O'Brien left her side for a second to collect another towel from the side. Standing behind her mistress she placed the towel over her damp hair, crimping the material between her fingertips to soak up the excess wet.

"Per'aps Mrs Crawley might find yer something to do down at the hospital?" O'Brien asked, returning to the earlier part of their conversation, as she teased her Cora's hair into loose curls.

"Perhaps." Cora asked, picking up the bottle of cologne and dabbing it to her neck. "What must you think of me? The whole world is trying to find its place again after the war and here I am complaining that I'm bored." O'Brien's warm breath caught on the dampness of her shoulder, causing a slight flurry across her neck. "Sorry; somebody must be walking across my grave," she let out a small laugh and led the way back into the bedroom.

* * *

><p>The morning sunlight streamed through the window. "It's supposed to be a nice day m'lady," O'Brien said as she followed her into the room.<p>

"Hmm," she acknowledged, picking up the stockings that had been left on the bed. Sh sat in front of the dresser as she started to pull them on as O'Brien collected the dress she'd thought suitable for the day and laid it over her arm, smoothing out invisible creases as she tried to think of suggestions that might cheer up her ladyship. Though why she bothered, she didn't know- her ladyship was right; the world was on its arse and still trying to re-group when all Cora could worry about was how the ending of the war had inconvenienced her.

No; that wasn't fair, O'Brien thought to herself- her ladyship had rolled with the punches when the hospital had invaded her home and had selflessly dedicated endless hours to the welfare of those poor soldiers- it was only natural that she should feel at a loss now that her new-found purpose had been snatched away from her. Especially when her imbecile husband wasn't making her feel anything less than worthless, now that his affections were bestowed elsewhere.

By the time O'Brien had wrenched herself from her thoughts, Cora had already pulled on her stockings and chemise. The maid then went over to take over doing up the buttons. Cora glanced sideward to observe her reflection in the long mirror.

"What am I doing wrong, O'Brien?"

"Pardon me, m'lady?" she asked, looking up to the sculpted face before her. Her hair had started to dry in loose ringlets.

"Why does his lordship not desire me anymore?" she almost whispered, ashamed of herself. She felt totally vulnerable in that moment, as though the confession was a realisation to herself. There was nobody else in the world she could talk like this to; O'Brien was her closest ally and she knew that her maid would never judge her.

"If that's true I think 'e's gone as mad as the rest of the world," she reassured, although she couldn't empathise with her mistress- she herself had never known the feeling of being truly desired. Sure enough the lads in her youth had coveted her- her curvaceous body stirring more than enough attention in her teenage years and sure enough she had given in to their advances. But never, she believed, had she been _desired_.

Cora offered a grateful, but unsatisfied, smile as O'Brien reached for the corset that lay on the bed. She wrapped her arms around her mistress as she guided the garment around her waist before lining up the clasps at her front, flicking them shut one by one.

"Of course..." O'Brien began, "you could always surprise him. Remind him what he's missing."

Her ladyship looked intrigued. "And how do you propose I do that exactly?"

O'Brien stepped around her and took hold of the ties at the back of her corset. She thought back on her parents' relationship, of the way her mother would dress herself up and drink her way to confidence, in order to regain the affections of her father.

"A new dress?" she suggested, twisting her fingers through the ties with expert skill as she tightened the corset.

Cora contemplated the suggestion; she couldn't deny it was a good one.

"Yes," she responded with renewed enthusiasm, "we'll go into town. You can help me chose." Cora pulled her dressing gown around her shoulders and sat at the dressing table. Their movements were so in sync that O'Brien had already picked up the brush and had it gliding through her hair.

"Dear O'Brien, what would I do without you?" she said, excited by the prospect of winning back her husband.


	2. The Afterthought

**Part Two: The Afterthought**

O'Brien finished her ladyship's hair and dressing before excusing herself in order to arrange their outing. Branson had been put on standby for 10.30am which gave the maid approximately half an hour for a quick fag, a bite to eat and time to dress herself properly for their outing.

She stood out in the courtyard, pulling the thick smoke into her lungs contentedly as Thomas sparked up for himself.

"What's up wi' you?" she asked, noting the way his brow furrowed.

"Carson ain't budging. Can't do much more brown-nosing" he said, heaving wearily on his cigarette.

"Well it's hardly a surprise is it? Think you burnt ya bridges long ago."

"Maybe I should try your tactics. Falling over meself to be a _slave _to one of them. No thank you."

O'Brien gave him a piercing look. Whilst the other staff thought the maid to be insurmountable in her professionalism and work ethic, Thomas was not afraid to call her up on her blinded sense of duty to a woman who had kept her on a leash for the past god-knows how many years.

"An' who's the one gonna have a roof over their head and a steady income in five years time. Bout time you knuckled down...learnt that the grass ain't greener on the other side." She took a heavy drag on the cigarette, grateful that it burnt away the bitterness in her throat.

If she admitted it to herself, she'd have realises that she half-envied Thomas; for his sense of optimism, for the way he constantly strove for a better outcome in life, for the way he fought against the hand he'd been dealt and refused to settle for second best. Yet, here he was, reaping the destructive consequences of possessing such an attitude, having worn out all his chances and used up all his aces, now in almost desperate need for some shred of opportunity. The only opportunity within his grasp was re-gaining employment at Downton, even though it meant falling back under Carson's rule and even if granted, it would only ever be temporary- for there in the back of his mind, he would still be scheming , still be plotting and still be charting his way to some yet unknown glory.

"Five years time...don't ya think she'll be trading you in for a younger model," he said- the statement cloaked in jest, rather than in malice, and even though she knew he was mocking her, she was also aware that there was some truth in his words; it was quite the fashion to move on the older maid as the lady's demands became too much. O'Brien was determined for this never to happen to her.

"Why...ya thinking of offering up yer services? Ya'd look pretty good in this dress," she suggested, smirking at the image that she'd form in her head. She stubbed her fag end against the wall, watching the ash smudge a gray pattern along the brickwork. She left Thomas behind, a bemused expression adorning his face.

* * *

><p>O'Brien passed the kitchen on the way to her room, allowing herself a quick cup of tea and a slice of toast. Reaching the familiarity of her own domain she indulged in the opportunity to sit upon the bed and take a few minutes rest.<p>

She stared down at the hands that rested in her lap. Slowly, she turned her palms, examining the lines and scars. She flexed her fingers, questioning how and when she had aged from the young woman she vaguely remembered once being. She could hardly recount how the individual years had passed and could barely scrape together the odd happy memory. It seemed that in the latter half of her life, all of her memories had been shaped by Downton and coloured by Cora.

Yet far from resenting such a fact, she feared losing the safety of it.

And perhaps Thomas would be proved right; perhaps in five years time, or even less, she would be redundant to the needs of her ladyship.

And then what would she do.

What would she do without her?


	3. The Realisation

**Part Three: The Realisation**

The outing to the shop had initially been a pleasant one. It was nice to step outside of the confines of the house and revel in the gentle warmth of the spring morning. They'd arrived in town shortly before 11am and the dressmaker was already on hand to offer her services. She spent the best part of two hours offering suggestions, holding out material, suggesting new shades and shapes but Cora was still not convinced that she had yet found the perfect one and was more than a little disheartened.

"There is another option..." the dressmaker said, grappling for any shred of hope to be done with this customer, "...excuse me one moment." She left the Countess alone with her maid, who looked as beleaguered as she felt and hurried off the store room at the back of the shop. She returned promptly and with her carried the most stunning dress either of the women has ever seen.

"This is a dress that we designed after your last visit..." the woman said, pulling the item from the protective bag that was draped over it, "...our young apprentice said she was 'inspired' by you to design this. I suppose she would be reluctant to let it go, but as it was created specifically with you in mind, I'm sure the young lady would be satisfied to know that you were the one wearing it. Perhaps you would like to try it on?"

Cora, of course, was desperate to try it on and O'Brien knowingly reached for the garment, grateful that this could finally be the end of her ordeal.

It fitted like a glove. The cream material was tapered to sweep in perfectly at the curve of her waist, whilst bowing gracefully to the curves of her hips and chest. The lace embroidery of the bodice spilled out to the intricate detail of the straight neckline, which cut across her arms to leave the tops of her shoulders bare. The lacy detail was continued along her arms, stopping just below the elbow at the point where the billowing skirt flowed down and then outwards from her hip. Cora had never seen such a beautiful dress in her life and she was sure that this was exactly what she needed to win back her husband's affections.

She caught O'Brien's eye in the reflection of the mirror and offered a grateful smile.

* * *

><p>Cora wished she could have taken a picture of her husband's expression when he saw her enter the dining room. In fact, she wished she could have taken a picture of everyone's face; she had certainly made an impression. As Robert set down his glass and took a few short strides towards her she could hardly contain the nervous excitement that filled her.<p>

"You look wonderful, darling" he said, as he surveyed the dress more closely. The tinge of guilty sadness that infiltrated his voice was completely lost on Cora, who was so taken by the look in his eyes.

"Thank you" she whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. In that moment, with him looking at her so deeply and with her heart bursting with hope, such was her want to rid herself of the troubles they shared, she truly could have believed that everything was alright between them.

The evening passed quickly and without event. Robert had sat across from his wife, offering small smiles and small conversation throughout the meal, but at every point felt the bitter snag of guilt pull upon his heart. He had betrayed her.

After the dinner and the drinks and the goodnights, Cora was finally left alone with her husband.

"Shall we?" she asked, holding out her hand to him for her to join her to bed. Cora noticed her husband's momentary hesitation and considered questioning it before he offered her a reassuring smile, sipping the last of his whiskey and setting aside the decanter for the next day. Finally he took her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers. "You look breathtaking" he said, forcing himself to swallow down the words _I don't deserve you._

As they walked along the landing, Robert could sense his wife's anticipation. As they reached his bedroom, he paused and Cora's eager face fell with sudden realisation.

"I think it may be best..." he begun awkwardly, "...if I were to sleep in my own room tonight." He felt sick with his own shame and couldn't bring himself to go to bed with Cora pretending that everything was okay. "I have to be up early in the morning...I wouldn't want to wake you," he offered as a way of explanation.

Cora nodded, gulping down the emotion that had swelled in her throat and forced a smile of understanding. "Do you mind?" he asked, selfishly wanting her false acquiescence to ease the burden of his conscience.

"Of course not," she replied gracefully. "Goodnight, Robert" she said, leaving him there in the corridor as she walked toward their bedroom. Alone.

He hated himself so much in that moment.

* * *

><p>The door to the bedroom opened behind her.<p>

"O'Brien..." Cora greeted as her maid entered the room.

"How was your evening milady?" she asked.

"Robert liked the dress," she stated, looking down at it and running her palm along her waist. O'Brien nodded politely although, she thought, that didn't explain why Cora's mood had not seemed to improve from what it had been first thing that morning. "Would you help me take it off?" The maid stepped into the middle of the room and stood behind her ladyship.

He hands moved to remove her necklace first; not wanting it to snag on the intricate lace of the dress. She unfastened the clasp at the back of her ladyships' neck, her hands reaching forward over Cora's shoulders to lift the necklace from her chest. But, as she moved to slink the chain into one of her palms, Cora's hands moved up to grasp O'Brien's forearms, bringing them down across her chest. She froze for a moment at the unexpected contact, unsure of what the hell Cora was doing, until she felt her mistress's dejected form mould against her, gripping her arms for comfort. O'Brien thawed, holding her ladyship in their impromptu embrace and giving a small squeeze of reassurance.

Cora's head bowed slightly and she was grateful that O'Brien couldn't see her face; the ache in her heart overwhelmed her whole body as her face contorted with the wealth of her sorrow. It should have been her husband's embrace that she was falling into this night, but the curve of her maid's body against her back refused to let herself be deceived into imagining such. And yet, there was something oddly comforting about O'Brien's body against hers.

O'Brien allowed her ladyship all the time she needed and just hoped she couldn't feel the incessant thrumming of her heart against her ribs.

Cora allowed herself a moment longer to soak up O'Brien's quiet strength before releasing her grasp on the younger woman's arm to wipe the tears from her face. The maid reluctantly loosened her grip, moving away wordlessly and placing the necklace upon the dresser as the other woman recomposed herself.

As O'Brien turned back, Cora gave a small apologetic smile which she returned; the moment passing and never to be spoken of again.

* * *

><p><em>AN I found that I had actually already written most of a third chapter so thought I may as well tweak it and post it. Not sure if it's any good? Let me know if you think it's worth continuing? Thanks :)_


	4. The Contemplation

**Part Four: The Contemplation**

Cora sat at the dressing table in her night gown.

"Take me some place else, O'Brien."

The maid frowned at her mistress in the mirror, not understanding the request.

"Tell me a story...take me some place far from here."

O'Brien gave a bemused glance and stifled a mocking grin, secretly finding her ladyship completely adorable yet hating herself for finding her such.

"What sort of story would you like to hear, milady?"

"Tell me what the world is going to be like in a hundred years...if we were living in a hundred years time..."

The maid fought the urge to tell her ladyship that she'd gone barmy but, as ever, she simply indulged her.

"So it's...twenty eighteen...?"

Cora nodded coyly in the mirror, already enjoying the distraction as O'Brien threaded her long fingers through her hair, preparing to divide it into sections for the usual plait. She paused before continuing her story, looking wistfully upwards for a moment as though formulating some elaborate tale in her mind. Cora let out a small laugh; her maid was rarely playful but when she was, it was a privilege to witness, as though being allowed to glimpse some rare and beautiful treasure.

"...Women run everything. Corsets have been abandoned and so have high collars..." she began, flicking her eyes upwards to glean Cora's reaction and found herself encouraged to continue by a small appreciative grin that reflected up at her.

"...Women are accountants, lawyers, doctors...physicists, prime ministers and- "

Cora emitted a gentle laugh, which made the other woman's heart flurry with a pride. Cora shook her head at how ludicrous the suggestions were, before resting her elbows on the table, laying her chin against her knuckles and waiting like an eager child to hear the rest of the tale.

"...Cars having gone out of fashion and everyone flies everywhere, and all over the world." O'Brien finished the plait, fastening the ends and resting the braid on her mistress's shoulder.

"And what are we...in this brave new world?"

Seemingly without hesitation, she replied, "You're an actress...everyone knows your name. Everybody wants to be you."

Cora blushed, dismissing the compliment with a role of her eyes.

"And you?" she asked.

"Me, milady?"

"What would you be?" she questioned, her lips pouting slightly in intrigue as she raised an eyebrow, turning to view her maid.

O'Brien faltered on the question. What would she be if she didn't live in shackles? What would she do with a hundred years of progress, of freedom, of opportunity? Where would she be if not at her ladyship's beck and call.

"I...don't know," she answered.

The maid could see that her mistress was a little disappointed by the answer and something akin to nervousness sidled through her veins at Cora's penetrating stare. Her mind reset to default and a comment drenched in cynicism and wit that was poised at the tip of her tongue. But it didn't come.

"An artist" she finally confessed. The nervous flurry in her veins now soared into a burn which glowed in her cheeks and she tried to busy herself with collecting Cora's clothes, wanting to forget the entire conversation.

"An artist? Are you any good?"

O'Brien shrugged, still distracting herself with folding the clothes over her arm.

"Not bad. Well, I used to be alright. I suppose. When I was younger like."

Feeling herself to be shrinking in the spotlight, she stood up straight, reposing herself; the consummate professional.

"Can I do anything else for you, milady?"

Cora observed the woman before her. She was such a peculiar thing. They had shared each other's company for so many years, and yet, Cora felt as though she might never be any closer to understanding her. She was a mystery, a strange and glorious creature. One who was such an important part of her world and yet, was the lowest in the scheme of it.

"No. Thank you, O'Brien" she said, with a wealth of affection in her voice which transcended all formality and conveyed the appreciation of their friendship.

For tonight, that would be all.

* * *

><p><em>AN Thank you for the replies to the last part!_


	5. The Facade

**Part Five: The Facade**

Cora had resolved herself to the challenge; all marriages were difficult, all relationships needed work and all wives should be the ones to make the extra effort.

But despite all her brave efforts in the face of it, inside her resolve was weakening.

With every passing day, she felt their connection take another knock; with every new attempt at regaining his attentions, her efforts seemed to be thwarted by his excuses of business, the demands of his responsibilities and his apologies of tiredness. There were sporadic nights of 'affection', of what now felt like marital duty, but these were few and far between and after every encounter she was left feeling spent and empty, curling into her pillow and preventing the tears with heavy eyelids.

There was little fight left inside, but on the outside she was still the strong, beautiful and seemingly happy countess she had always been.

It was only O'Brien who ever saw the glimpses of her fracturing soul.

"O'Brien, I wonder if you could help me with something?" she asked, after her maid had finished dressing her for dinner. Her silence was acquiescence as she waited for Cora to explain. "It may take advantage of your artistry skills..." she explained as she reached into the drawer. O'Brien watched as her mistress pulled out an assortment of little pots and brushes.

"Wha's all this?" O'Brien asked, walking over to the dresser where she sat as she picked up a pot and started examining it.

"Make-up," Cora explained. The other woman scrunched her face cynically and Cora could hear her silent questioning. "It's becoming more fashionable, I thought I would give it a try..." she said hopefully. O'Brien was half-tempted to say "_You can't kid me, love_" and her mistress could see it written all over her face. O'Brien rolled her eyes before she could stop herself though and Cora was half-tempted to pull her up for impertinence, but she couldn't. How could she? This woman was the one who saw it all and even though Cora tried to deceive herself, she couldn't deceive _her _O'Brien.

"Where d'ya get 'em from?" she asked, picking up a pot of rose-tinted balm and then selecting a thin little brush which she presumed was the right one to apply it. She placed the lid on the table and swirled the brush against the surface of the balm, before placing the forefinger of her left hand under her mistress's jaw, guiding it upwards slightly.

"His lordship's sister knows a cosmetics maker," she said, her voice slightly distorted by her tightened neck. "Obviously she needs it more than me," she added cheekily.

O'Brien suppressed a grin at the statement, as she rested the little finger of her right hand against Cora's chin to steady her hand and gently applied the thin brush to the outline of her top lip. The countess closed her eyes suddenly at the touch, which tickled unbelievably so and she tightened her lips at the strange sensation. As O'Brien stroked softly over her lip, Cora couldn't take it anymore and was forced to rub her lips together to erase the strange feeling. She opened her eyes to witness her maid's mild frustration.

"You need to relax your mouth," she said, poising her hands away from Cora's face for the moment.

"Sorry. It tickles," she said, her mouth curling at the sides in embarrassment. She relaxed back again and closed her eyes, subconsciously flicking her tongue out against her lips, causing O'Brien to sigh again in frustration. It was completely unexpected for Cora when O'Brien rubbed her thumb across her lips to eliminate the dampness and she felt her heart beating slightly faster at the contact.

"And your lips need to be dry..." she explained to which Cora gave an almost imperceptible nod, still half-stunned by the reaction of her body. She closed her eyes again, but could still feel the warmth of the other woman so close to her.

O'Brien tried to steady herself as she stared down at Cora's gently pouted lips and gently flickering eyelids, an image she was sure would be seared into her memory for life. At that thought alone, the heat began rising from the bottom of her neck, sidling up to her ears. She swallowed, steadied her breath and started again.

Softly, she traced the brush against the edges of Cora's lips, ignoring the subtle twitch as her ladyship tried to control her involuntary responses. A second later, she dosed up the brush once more, applying the pinkish balm in generous stokes across the plumpness of her lips.

As she finished, O'Brien took a moment to examine her masterpiece, touching a fingertip along the lower line where it had smudged by a millimetre. At the absence of the other woman's gentle touch against her face, Cora slowly opened her eyes, meeting her gaze and smiling warmly up at her.

Cora glanced sideways to look into the mirror and then turned her face fully to look at her lips in the glass.

"Wow," she said, totally impressed with the way they looked. "How about this next..." she said, picking up a black pencil and O'Brien looked questioningly at her "...it's eye liner."

O'Brien took pencil and popped the lid off.

"Close yer eyes then." Cora done as asked, although she did so with mild apprehension.

As she felt the other woman's hand edge closer to her face she started to feel slightly nervous about the fact that her maid was taking a blunt instrument to her eye and felt a sudden concern that she was putting a whole lot of trust in this woman. But wasn't that what she done every single day? She suddenly felt rather silly, but the combination of emotions gave way to a nervous laughter which she could feel building in her chest.

O'Brien noted the grin spreading across her lips, which Cora was obviously struggling to restain. As soon as the pencil touched her eyelid, Cora burst into nervous giggles and sat forward, causing O'Brien to take a small step back.

"I'm sorry!" she stuttered through laughter. She shook her head slightly, trying to compose herself. "Right, I'm fine. Do it."

O'Brien bit the inside of her mouth, trying to contain her own amusement as Cora leant back and closed her eyes. Cora's cheeks were starting to hurt as she tried to contain her giggles, when she felt the other woman moving closer to her once again. As soon as the pencil touched her eyelid, that was it- Cora grabbed O'Brien's wrist as she became overwhelmed with laughter. She held tightly to O'Brien's wrist as she tried to apologise, though she could barely even speak.

O'Brien started laughing too. She was actually laughing. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was actually genuinely laughing and Cora noticed it too.

She finally released her grasp on her maid's arm as she started to come down from her hysterics.

"We'll leave that one, shall we?" O'Brien said, placing the pencil down on the side.

"No, please. Honestly, it's out of my system now," Cora asked, taking a deep breath and wiping a tear from her eye. She trusted her. O'Brien took up the pencil again and waited for her mistress to get comfortable again. This time, as she placed the pencil against her eyelid there was no reaction and the maid carefully drew the tip across her eye-line, leaving a thick black stripe in its wake.

"That's one," she said. Cora kept her eyes closed and waited for the feel of O'Brien's fingertips against her cheek once again. She was duly comforted as she felt the touch resume, followed by the feel of the pencil against her other eyelid as she tried to ignore the warm breath of the other woman against her cheek.

"Done." O'Brien stepped back as Cora blinked her eyes open. She turned her face to the mirror straight away.

"Gosh." Cora couldn't quite make out her own reaction; it looked strange, making her eyes dark and sultry. "What do you think?"

"It's stunnin'..." she said.

"But...?"

"But you don't need it." O'Brien said honestly. "The lip balm is nice though."

Cora had to agree. Reluctantly, she picked up a handkerchief and started rubbing the eyeliner away. "I can just imagine the Dowager's reaction..."she said wryly. "Who am trying to kid?"

O'Brien opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"One moment," Cora called out, hurriedly opening the drawer and scooping all the items inside.

"I'll see you down there, darling," Robert said through the door before his footsteps could be heard retreating.

O'Brien shared a knowing look with her mistress. Cora glanced down for a moment, before bringing the handkerchief to her lips and rubbing away the balm.

She stood up and turned to O'Brien.

"How do I look?" she asked quietly.

"Stunnin'"

Cora reached out and squeezed the top of O'Brien's shoulder affectionately before grazing her hand down the length of her arm, linking their fingers for the briefest of moments.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p><em>AN Thanks for the replies to the last part! Especially to Charmed Lassie whose reply gave me the poke start to writing the rest of this. Thanks also to Julie Ann Pope; to explain, I like to think that O'Brien has always been really repressed and if she been born into a different time or circumstance she could have been something really amazing. Also, I think she is very skilled and is an observer of life/ people, which in my head translated to the thought that she could be a brilliant artist!  
><em>

_I have written the 7th and 8th parts already, so just need to write the 6th- once I have done that, the rest should be up in reasonably quick succession- will be a maximum of 10 parts altogther. Thanks in advance to anybody who takes the time to read- hope you enjoy! _


	6. The Present

**Part Six: The Present**

Stunning. It was a strange word for a maid to use to describe her mistress, but never the less Cora drew upon it in moments of quiet contemplation; when she stared at her husband across the dinner table, when he looked at her but looked through her, when she stood in front of the mirror examining every section of her greying face just like she had all those weeks ago when Sarah had suggested the idea of the dress, as some sort of saving grace for her dying marriage. That was the day she had realised the true potency of whatever disease was now consuming their marriage.

Stunning, she thought. Hardly.

The door to the bedroom creaked open with a small knock, and Cora could tell even from the timid entrance that it wasn't O'Brien, as she had been expecting. As she looked over her shoulder from where she was sat at the dresser, she realised that for some reason Anna was serving as her replacement.

"Oh good morning, Anna," she said, without concealing her tone of questioning.

"Good morning milady. Mrs Hughes as asked if I would attend you today- I hope that's okay?" she asked, having paused before continuing toward her mistress.

"Of course," she said, with quiet concern as she turned back to the mirror. Anna stepped forward to begin her duties.

"Is everything okay with Miss O'Brien, Anna?"

"She's fine." Anna said as she began styling the dark curls of her mistress. She was reluctant to continue with any further explanation but could see that her ladyship would not allow her to stop there. "Apparently Mrs Hughes had told her days ago that she was to take today off, and she'd agreed at the time. I think Miss O'Brien believed that Mrs Hughes would have forgotten by this morning though. But she's sharp as a button is Mrs Hughes, and she didn't look too impressed when she found Miss O'Brien poised and ready at the bottom of the stairs, coming up to attend you."

Her ladyship indulged in Anna's wistful snigger but still didn't fully understand what was so special about today, especially when it seemed that O'Brien was eager to evade it.

"I don't remember Mrs Hughes mentioning it," again the questioning was there, but she tried to conceal the accusatory tone.

"Oh, it's the standard arrangement, Milady," Anna said, a little confused that her ladyship would have forgotten, "it being Miss O'Brien's birthday, an all."

Her ladyship closed her eyes; inwardly cursing herself for having forgotten- but why had O'Brien failed to mention it? She knew, of course; she wouldn't want all the fuss and attention. O'Brien never did share much of herself, and a birthday was a personal occasion. She would want to carry on as if it was just another day.

Her ladyship's sigh was confirmation enough to Anna that she had forgotten but Cora didn't feel the need to explain herself; it was surely apparent that she felt awful enough about it. Anna felt the need to steer the conversation positive.

"We got her a writing set, downstairs. She seems to write to somebody quite often. I think it's her brother" Anna explained.

Cora's mind was too far entwined with all the thoughts that were suddenly surging through it.

"Anna," her ladyship begun, looking at the maid in the mirror, "will you do something for me- will you ask O'Brien to bring me my late morning tea as usual."

Anna didn't argue, but was slightly confused by the request. Her mistress smiled reassuringly.

"But…don't mention that I know," she added, looking at the other woman eagerly.

* * *

><p>"What you grinning at?" O'Brien asked, not impressed with Thomas looking exceedingly pleased about something and seeming to have only come out to the courtyard to knock her about it.<p>

"Nothing," he said, although it was hugely apparent that he was loving seeing her so pissed off. "You could always spend the day with old Hughsie, if you're bored."

O'Brien, as much as she wanted to tell him to get lost, couldn't help but snigger slightly and hold out her packet of cigarettes in his direction. He snatched one up.

"Many happy returns and all that" he said, sparking up and taking down a large gulp of smoke

"Cheers 'n all that," she said, mimicking his tone.

"What did the golden couple get ya?"

"A small reminder of how much I mean to them." Thomas took this as it was meant; nothing. He raised his brow, disgusted but not surprised.

"Miss O'Brien." She turned to the sound of Anna's voice from next to the house. "Her ladyship would like you to take her up some tea."

Thomas and O'Brien shared a look.

"Does she know _Miss O'Brien_ has the day off?" Thomas retorted, sticking up for her in his own small way.

Anna felt awkward. What was she supposed to say?

"She insisted." Anna said, immediately feeling guilty for how demanding she had made the Countess sound.

"Course she did." Thomas said disdainfully.

O'Brien rolled her eyes and stubbed out her fag, following Anna into the house.

* * *

><p>The knock that came this time, Cora knew to be O'Brien's.<p>

"Good morning Milady," she said as she entered, finding Cora sat on her chaise longue, fully dressed and hair styled. She couldn't help but spot the intricate differences between the work of Anna's hands and her own and felt suddenly possessive.

"Good morning O'Brien," she said brightly, getting up to greet the other woman.

"Where would you like your tray?" she asked.

"Oh, anywhere is fine," she said quickly, not really interested in the tea.

O'Brien placed the tray on the bed and stood back up for further instruction.

"I need you to accompany me into town this morning. Do you think you could arrange the driver to take us as soon as possible?" Cora asked, deliberately ignoring what she knew of O'Brien's birthday and day off. She felt slightly bad as O'Brien looked mildly put out, but knew she had to stick to her plan.

As O'Brien left and walked down the corridor, she shook her head silently cursing.

Maybe she should have insisted on her day off after all.

* * *

><p>Cora found her husband sitting in the library.<p>

"Morning, darling," she greeted as she entered.

"Cora," he greeted in return, actually looking genuinely pleased to see her as he turned from his writing table.

"You don't need the car, do you? I'm heading into town with O'Brien," she asked.

Robert looked at her in disbelief.

"What?" she asked.

"You remember where we are supposed to be this afternoon?"

Cora was reluctant to admit that she didn't. Was else had she forgotten today? He could tell she had no clue and so proceeded to enlighten her:

"Mama wants us to accompany her to luncheon with Mr and Mrs Gatehouse. The arrangement was made weeks ago."

Cora sighed in frustration. What was she to do?

"Do you really need me to accompany you?"

Robert couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Well you've obviously made your mind up, Cora, so I would suppose that question is a little redundant." He turned back to what he was doing and Cora closed her eyes.

"I'll make sure I'm back in time," she said apologetically, placing a small kiss to his temple.

* * *

><p>They had been driving for about fifteen minutes when O'Brien first started to notice that they were diverting from the usual route into town.<p>

"Where is it we're headed?" she asked her Ladyship, wondering if it was simply the case that the new driver didn't know the route.

"Oh, I need to collect something for his Lordship…from one of his shooting acquaintances," Cora said, thinking on her feet and feeling pleased with herself when the maid accepted this without question.

They drove for another fifteen minutes before Cora checked her watch- realising that the journey was taking a lot longer than she remembered and thought of Robert and their luncheon and his disapproval. They would have less time than she thought, but as she turned to glance at O'Brien, she realised that this was her priority right now. They still had plenty of time before she had to be back.

A short while later the driver finally pulled up at a converted barn, which was really rather grand. It was slightly offset from the small village which it accompanied but it was consumed with a character of its own and O'Brien was somewhat enthralled by it. She continued to stare out of the window as the driver stepped out to open the door for Cora.

"Would you come in with me, O'Brien?" she asked, stealing away her attention from the building.

O'Brien exited the car too, and waited for Cora to join her round the other side. They both walked up to the house together. The first time O'Brien's suspicions were fuelled was when Cora furtively looked around and then tilted a small plant pot on the ground, picking up a key from beneath it.

She stood up and grinned mischievously as O'Brien frowned. She offered no explanation as she pushed the key into the lock and pushed the door open. She took a step in, then turned to face the other woman.

"Close your eyes." She said, her grin not fading. O'Brien didn't know what to say, and her frown too, had not faded. In fact, it had become more intense, having no bloody clue what her ladyship was up to.

"Trust me," she said and O'Brien couldn't work out if it was a question or a request. "Close your eyes."

O'Brien, trusting her, did so.

Cora felt a swell of satisfaction and reached out to take the maid's hands in her own.

"Step up," she instructed as she herself took a step back. She dropped one of O'Brien's hands as she turned to face the way she was going, not noticing O'Brien sneakily peeking every-so-often. Their pace suddenly slowed, as Cora seemed to find what she was looking for.

O'Brien could sense Cora's excitement in the shallowness of her breathing.

They stopped, the light seeming to have got a little darker. O'Brien heard a door open as Cora whispered, "no peeking" and she felt her other hand being grasped again. Cora guided her a few steps forward and she suddenly felt the warm sunlight cast over her face, her hands still being grasped tightly by her mistress.

"Okay. Open them."

O'Brien opened her eyes and stared at what she saw around her.

"Happy Birthday," Cora whispered, stepping aside to let her take it all in.

"What- I don't…" O'Brien began, not quite comprehending the surroundings. It was a large white space, with big windows all around the top of the room allowing the midday sunshine to flood the space. The walls were filled with endless sketches and paintings and the space in between was filled with sporadic still life objects, set off by easels and equipment.

"It's a studio, for you to use. When you have time off, I thought you could come here and paint. I've hired the space. It's used by a few other artists but…well it's big enough," Cora explained, slightly nervous as she was unsure if O'Brien was pleased or not. "It's my present, to you. To say, well, thank-you, I suppose. And 'Happy Birthday', of course," she rattled on, not sure if she had done the right thing.

O'Brien tried to take it all in but was in fact, incredibly overwhelmed. It meant more than anything anybody had ever done for her and her heart thrummed incessantly as she became unsure how to express her gratitude.

For the first time in her life, she felt completely humbled.

O'Brien spent a short while acquainting herself with the studio and the instruments, noticing Cora checking her watch at intervals.

"You need to be getting back." O'Brien said, a question posed as a statement.

"Yes, sorry. You can stay if you wish; you have the afternoon off after all. I can get the driver to come back for you later?"

O'Brien shook her head. "I'll come back with you."

Cora nodded, and moved to go.

"Milady…" O'Brien called, stopping a short space from her. Cora paused, waiting for the other woman to speak. But she didn't. And neither did Cora.

They just stood, looking into each other's eyes.

Cora smiled first, her expression conveying everything, and O'Brien, less able to express herself in words or in gesture, simply inclined her head.

Their silence said all they needed to say.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry for the delay! The rest is all written now- five parts left and I'll be posting them up soon! Hope you enjoy.


	7. The Moment

A/N: Thank you for the replies! Here's the next part...

* * *

><p><strong>P<strong>**art Seven: The Moment**

The journey home seemed far quicker that the journey there and it wasn't long before they were approaching the grand gates of Downton.

"What have you planned for the rest of your birthday, then? Cora asked.

"I'm sure Mrs Hughes is plannin' somethin' or other," O'Brien said dryly and Cora could sense her lack of enthusiasm. It was no secret to her mistress that she was not best friends with the rest of the staff downstairs; heaven knew, as Cora did, that O'Brien's manner was hardly sweetness and light- she was far from being everyone's cup of tea.

"Sounds nice," Cora replied with a warm smile, which was tinged with a hint of knowing and O'Brien flicked her view sideward to acknowledge the unsaid. "I've got an afternoon with the Dowager's prospective new gardeners; a meal which promises to be more like a well-rehearsed interrogation than a pleasant conversation over luncheon."

There was an ease and comfort between them which allowed Cora to share these things with her maid; these days there was nobody who she could speak so freely with and she trusted her implicitly with all the things they shared.

They pulled up outside the house. Cora checked her watch; "We're actually earlier than I anticipated. His Lordship will be pleased." They both stepped out of the car and found Thomas waiting to greet them at the front of the house. Excused from her duties for the day, Cora nodded to O'Brien to indicate she was fine for her to stay and chat to Thomas.

"I'll call Anna to help me dress," she said, as she stepped into the house, leaving the other two behind.

"Wha'da you want?" O'Brien asked Thomas; the look that he'd worn this morning seemed not to have dissipated any.

"I am cordially inviting you to a birthday party, for that of one 'Miss O'Brien'."

"Great. Knew she were up to summin'"

"Come now. Be grateful. They've all been putting a lot of effort in to today. If I have to hear Daisy spoutin'' on about your bleedin' cake one more time, I'm gonna have to cave me 'ead in with the nearest heavy object. Shall we?"

"You go on. I'm gonna check she's being seen to by Anna, or his Lordship'll be 'avin a field day at be slopin' off from me duties."

Thomas rolled his eyes, thinking what a fake excuse it was. Not that he cared and set off on foot around to the other entrance.

O'Brien stood alone.

Suddenly the quiet was stolen by footsteps heading swiftly in her direction.

"Milady?" O'Brien enquired as she saw her mistress walking back out of the house that only a few minutes previously she had walked into, but now looking thoroughly distraught. She stormed hurriedly passed O'Brien as if she didn't exist. The maid began to follow briskly.

"Did you know?" Cora demanded, not slowing her pace and not looking around for fear of faltering completely, such was the burden of hurt that wrapped around her chest and swelled in her throat.

"Pardon me, milady?" O'Brien asked, genuinely dumbfounded by the request, which was laced with a bitter sheath.

"Did you _know_?" she asked again, raising her voice.

"What ar'you-"

"_Her." _She demanded, stopping abruptly at the side of the house, but still unable to turn and face her. "About her and _my_ husband." Her voice was dangerous. That was when the realisation dawned on O'Brien. Somehow, she prevented it informing her expression.

"Who?" she asked, somewhat feebly.

"Just tell me!"

She turned to capture O'Brien's stricken gaze.

"You knew didn't you!" she said, her face contorting and her voice straining on the confirmation. "You all knew! Laughing at me whilst I languished in bed, or reclined in my bath or requested more tea. The whole time thinking...how ignorant must she be. When it was going on...right...in front...of my _face_."

"No-" she lied, somehow failing to demonstrate her usual prowess at the skill.

Her ladyship bowed her head, winded. "How _stupid_ must I be...?"

"Perhaps you just misread the-" O'Brien tried one last attempt to pretend it wasn't true, or at least pretend she knew nothing of Jane and his Lordship, but was cut off suddenly.

"Did I?" Cora asked sarcastically, and- too angry to stop herself- she reached an arm around the small of O'Brien's back and swept the other woman closer to her, bringing her other hand up to grasp her cheek as she re-enacted the scene she had just witnessed between her husband and the maid. "Did I misread _this..."_

They both stood, stunned in silence for a second; O'Brien's hands resting carefully halfway down her mistress's back, feeling every shaky breath that Cora took. Their lips so close.

She pressed her hands more firmly to Cora's back, sensing that she needed support.

Cora blinked, her eyes flickering momentarily over O'Brien's face, the image of her husband and Jane having almost instantly dissolved from her mind. Her heart pounded in her chest, the anger seeping from her bones, only to be replaced by strange emotions which caused a pinkish blush to drench her cheeks.

"No," O'Brien whispered.

There was no misunderstanding.


	8. The Moments After

A/N: Thanks very much for replying- I really appreciate it! Here's an angsty part...!

* * *

><p><strong>Part Eight: The Moments After<strong>

Cora was the first to drop her hands. She leant back against the side of the house, taking strength from the cool brick as her mind recoiled from the events of the last few minutes. Her stomach churned with the rush of emotion that spiked her body in the aftermath of the double revelation she had just encountered.

The moment with O'Brien had left her reeling and she could feel herself growing light-headed as the intoxicating heat spread through her body. Finally, she looked into the other woman's eyes, seeing the same blend of uncertainty; a curse and a blessing to know that the O'Brien's reaction mimicked her own.

But her stare was all-consuming, boring deep into Cora's most hidden self- so it felt- and she wanted to yell at her maid for the over-whelming sense of exposure that she was provoking within her.

O'Brien's eyes had not moved from Cora's face the whole time as she stood waiting for her to either order her away or demand her to stay. She did neither. Instead she stood, half-breathless in her silent quarrel and closed her eyes in a futile bid to hide herself away from the penetrative gaze.

That single moment had been enough to break the illusion and now both of them stood totally exposed to one another; the reality of the situation refracting before them and forcing them to deal with all the things that had been swimming silently between them for the past few weeks, perhaps even longer.

O'Brien glanced down at her mistress's trembling hand and, tentatively, reached out for it, glazing her fingertips against Cora's own. The other woman recoiled, scolded by the unexpected contact and she opened her eyes to fix her gaze on O'Brien. Cora's heart stuttered at the sight and despite the raging restrictions that strictured her most basic instincts, she couldn't stop herself from reaching forward to lace her fingers with her's.

Both women looked down at the meeting on their hands, their fingers curling around each other's, their movements synchronising as the slender digits entwined and danced together; the gentle friction igniting a spark which radiated throughout the rest of their bodies- their hands imitating a touch that would remain eternally forbidden to their bodies.

Cora hesitantly flicked her eyes up to O'Brien's, who was transfixed on the movement of their hands. She observed the torture that was manifest. And that's when she realised; she was teasing her.

She had to stop- it wasn't fair. She pulled her hand away quite suddenly, the guilt etched momentarily across her face before she pulled herself away from O'Brien completely and paced in the direction of the house, leaving the other woman standing dejectedly in the wake of her departure.

* * *

><p>Robert heard the sound of the front door and stepped out into the hallway to greet his wife.<p>

"Hello, darling," he said with a smile, as he adjusted his shirt and jacket slightly.

"Robert," she replied tightly, trying to calm the anger that had quickly returned- his furtive movements now so obvious to her that she wanted to lash out and hurt him, so that he could feel some of the pain that she was feeling in that moment. She yearned for (and simultaneously wanted to run from) the comfort of O'Brien.

"How was your morning?" he enquired.

"Fine, thank you," she said, making no attempt to smile.

"Mr and Mrs Gatehouse cancelled on Mama- she is rather miffed but, at least, it frees up our afternoon" He observed her a moment before, asking: "Cora, are you quite well?"

She flexed her fingers against her head, feeling her world caving in upon her and it was all she could do to stand up straight and not give into the lump in her throat or the tears at her eyes.

"Do you know, I have rather a headache. Would you excuse me?" she started walking towards the stairs before he'd even answered.

"Of course. Where is O'Brien?"

O'Brien; apart from Jane, it was the last name she wished to hear upon her husband's lips at that very moment in time.

"She's busy. Outside. She'll be along soon, I suspect. I'll go up."

"Do you want me to accompany you?" he asked, as she made the first step upon the stairs.

"No," she said abruptly, the anger becoming too much to control. "Thank you, darling," she added, not knowing who was around to hear. "You get back to your correspondences," she said, as she increased her ascended the stairs, needing to escape.

* * *

><p>As she walked briskly along the landing, she heard the front door open downstairs. She realised it must be O'Brien coming in, which was confirmed when she heard Robert asking the maid to come upstairs straight away to attend her.<p>

Cora sighed heavily, having no idea what she was going to do. What was she supposed to do? How were they to continue as mistress and maid? Why was she even worrying about that when her she had just caught her husband with another woman- a maid! A maid…a maid…like O'Brien. Was she just as bad? Was the sin of betrayal as bad in _thought_ as it was in the _physical_?

Reaching the sanctuary of her bedroom, she pushed the door open and entered, only to find Anna midway through changing the sheets.

"Oh I'm sorry, milady. I shouldn't be much longer," she explained as she stood to greet her boss.

"Don't worry Anna. I wasn't expecting to be up here this afternoon. You continue," she said, as she walked out and shut the door.

She could feel herself ready to break; her grip on reality was steadily ebbing away and she questioned whether she wasn't just trapped in a very bad dream which she would surely wake up from shortly. She just couldn't process the myriad of conflicting thoughts and emotions which overwhelmed her. She didn't know which to react to first.

As she made her way back across the landing she could hear the soft footsteps of O'Brien as she reached the top of the stairs.

Across the shadowy landing, they caught each other's eye.

Cora looked away almost immediately, her watery gaze catching sight upon the door of a guest bedroom to her left. She reached for the handle then glanced back up to O'Brien, silently indicating for her to join her.

The younger woman followed and closed the door behind her as her ladyship paused in the middle of the room, keeping her back turned.

Cora's silhouette was gilded by the early afternoon sun that soaked through the window frame, caressing her sylphlike figure. O'Brien could see the tension in her mistress's form; from the hand planted firmly on one hip to the other, which she imagined traced her lips in quiet apprehension- her shoulders were raised in tension and O'Brien could feel her chest grow tighter with dread for the words that Cora was about to say.

She could hear the sudden intakes of breath, as though her ladyship was about to either speak or sob. But no words came, as though they were lodged in her throat and refused to be voiced. Cora's face crept slowly around to look over her shoulder, willing herself to look her in the face, as though that might make the words come more easily.

But what was it that she even wanted to say? What was it that she actually _wanted_? She had no idea and the fact that the very woman who had caused this damned confusion was standing but a few feet away- waiting on her every move, her every breath, her every yet unspoken word- made it a whole darn lot harder to think straight, let alone articulate those thoughts into coherent sentences.

"Do you want me to go?" O'Brien asked firmly, deciding to take matters into her own hands, just wanting an end to this bloody torture.

Cora gulped as she heard the other woman speak, more so when she processed what she had actually just said. Her heart screamed '_no_' but in her head, her world of formalities and loyalties and honour, screamed louder, forcing her to realise that the illicit thoughts and feelings that had intruded upon her heart where fundamentally wrong. There was no other word for it; it was wrong.

"Yes," she said plainly, having somehow found the strength to prevent any quiver in her voice, but not yet having found the strength to turn around and look her in the eye. "I think it would be for the best."

Behind her back, O'Brien nodded. Rejection was something she had been accustomed to all her life and she found herself hardened to it. Or so she thought.

For in that moment, she could feel her world fracturing around her, and though she knew she should be concerned with the fact that she was now effectively jobless and homeless, the only thing she could think about was being torn from her mistress.

"Very well."

That was it. Just those two words and Cora could feel her heart breaking inside her chest. Her head bowed with the weight of her dilemma and she wished she could go back in time to when they were just friends, to before her mind was riddled with these thoughts and her body ravaged with these confusing feelings. For her _maid_. For a _woman._ For God _sake_ Cora!

She waited to hear the click of the door but for endless moments it didn't come. Finally, she forced herself to turn and look back at O'Brien, who stood frozen to the spot, her face giving nothing away.

Cora bit her lip on sight of her, her eyes shimmering as she blinked heavily.

"I'm sorry," Cora whispered, her soft voice gravelled with regret- a tear finally falling.

O'Brien gave nothing in response; she had nothing left to give.

She turned on her heel, yanked open the door and walked away.

Her footsteps echoing in Cora's ears.


	9. The Final Goodbye

A/N: Ah loving your replies- so glad you are liking this! I noticed a few silly mistakes in the last part which I hope I've edited out now and which I hope I've avoided in this part. And BlueBelleK, I'm imagining this is set after the Spanish Flu business :)

* * *

><p><strong>Part Nine: The Final Goodbye<strong>

There was a small knock at the door which O'Brien chose to ignore as she carefully removed a dress from its hanger, folding it over her arm and folding it in half once more before placing it in the bottom of her carpet bag. Behind her, despite the lack of invitation, the door was pushed open and in came Mrs Hughes, her hand remaining on the door handle as she spoke.

"Her Ladyship would like to see...you." Mrs Hughes was slightly taken aback as she surveyed the woman before her, who was absent of her black work attire and was instead clothed in her own casual dress with her hair loosened in a unfussy bun.

"Well she can-" O'Brien stopped abruptly as she turned to see Cora standing behind the housekeeper. Mrs Hughes gave her a disdainful look and furrowed her eyebrows on a secret promise to reprimand her properly when the Lady of the House was no longer in their presence, although she was suddenly distracted as she took note of the maid's activities and realised that something very serious was occurring.

Mrs Hughes stepped aside as her Ladyship made to move past her, and she tried to suppress her expression of mingled confusion and intrigue.

"Would you not like Miss O'Brien to attend you upstairs, Milady?"

"No. Thank you, Mrs Hughes," she said politely, dismissing the Housekeeper from their presence. Hughes gave a small bow of the head in acknowledgement, pulling the door with her as she stepped back, making sure to cast a warning glance in O'Brien's direction, to which she received a hardened expression. She closed the door and hurriedly went in search of Carson.

They were alone again. But, O'Brien continued as though uninterrupted, resuming her sequence of folding as though the other woman were not even in the room; as though the housekeeper had let in a cold draft and not the woman who stared at her so bewilderedly, her face flushed with the memory of tears.

She couldn't stand her gaze upon her face; the way her mistress was analysing every detail of her apparel and the new shape of her hair. She redoubled her efforts to collect all of her items into the holdall, wanting to be out of there as soon as possible- even though all she wanted to do was take Cora up in her arms and reassure her that everything would be okay. Either that or deck Robert bloody Crawley.

Cora could hardly bear the silence. She stood awkwardly and watched as the other woman continued what she was doing, acting as though she were invisible. She couldn't deny the sense of hurt that it provoked but knew that she no doubt deserved it for the way she had dismissed her so easily earlier. But now, with the benefit of hindsight- gleaned after what seemed like endless hours crying quietly into clean pillowcases- she realised what she truly stood to lose.

Cora watched her carefully- the younger woman a revelation. She was no longer wrapped up in black cloth but was swathed in lightness. She was no longer her maid but a woman. She was no longer O'Brien but Sarah.

Cora decided to force herself into the other woman's view by sitting on the bed, by side of the bag that she was packing, but still- despite the fact O'Brien knew she was being exceedingly childish- she refused to look at her mistress.

"Do you remember when you first came here?" Cora asked, not really expecting an answer. Her voice was still hoarse from crying.

There was a fleck in the other woman's movements which, despite herself, had given acknowledgement to the question.

"You were the last person I interviewed for the position. The others were all so...prim. I kept thinking, how am I going to cope with these dull people every waking day," she spoke quietly and laughed to herself as the recalled some of the dreary candidates she had met that day.

"But you. You were so...refreshing," she said, smiling fondly. O'Brien paused, waiting for her to carry on. Cora realised she had won her attention and was now keen to keep it.

"You were so straightforward and...interesting," she explained earnestly. Sarah frowned; that wasn't really an asset that employers usually looked for. "I wanted somebody for a friend, not just an employee."

O'Brien finally looked at Cora. "That was you, Sarah."

O'Brien reacted at the sound of her Ladyship using her Christian name but with the opposite effect to what Cora had intended; Sarah hardened herself- she couldn't contend with these mind games anymore. She straightened up, drawing a line under the conversation, under her employment, under everything.

She had to walk away.

Cora stared up at her, silently pleading for her to fight back and demand to stay. But she didn't. She pulled on her coat, neatened her hair in the small mirror and straightened her collar.

_Don't go_. The words thought but unspoken.

O'Brien turned back to the other woman who sat, so delicately, on the edge of her bed- making a whole array of emotions strike up in her system. She closed her eyes and swallowed down her apprehension; this was goodbye...and she had nothing to lose. She stepped back towards the bed and towards Cora who looked up at her, doe-eyed and helpless- there was a deep sadness in her eyes which implored Sarah not to leave her.

Boldly, Sarah reached out a hand and caressed her fingertips against Cora's cheek, provoking a delicate shudder as the American closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, indulging totally in the touch for that stolen second.

Sarah waited for the reproach, but it never came.

Then slowly, as though awaking from a dream, Cora opened her eyes, staring into the deep brown eyes of the woman above her.

Sarah's tentative fingertips traced her mistress's cheek softly; her warm breath catching against her lips, which lay agape in a voiceless ascent.

Sarah leaned forward, finally closing the small distance and pressed their lips together. It was so gentle and lingering, speaking of all the unspoken that smouldered slilently between them.

Cora reached up to wrap her fingers around Sarah's wrist causing her to pull away instantly, as she misread the grasp of her mistress's hand.

"_Goodbye_," Sarah whispered, leaving Cora in a stunned paralysis and for the second time that day, she walked away from her.

This time, it was forever.


	10. The Plea

**Part Ten: The Plea**

O'Brien was sat up in the strange double bed of the old inn, the lamp by her bedside casting a soft glow over the book that she held in her hands. For the fifth time, she attempted to take in the contents of the same page, but once again her eyes glazed over; the words merging into one stringent blur across the tainted white sheet.

It was a dark night and the breeze was somehow strong enough to penetrate through the small cracks in the frail window frame, causing a slight ripple through the drab curtains. When she tried to read the page for the sixth time, she finally gave up altogether, tossing the book down on the bedside cabinet and staring out in front of her across the empty room.

As birthdays went, she had to admit that this had been arguably the most awful of her entire life- although, as she thought back over the years, she realised that there were probably a few others there were in fact awful enough to warrant convincing competition to that feat.

From nowhere, her attention was stolen by the sound of a footstep on the landing outside her door. She paused.

For a second she remained stock still, trying to ascertain whether she had just imagined it…but that was not the case.

She suddenly heard a key carefully entering the lock; a gentle scraping of metal upon metal.

She stood up quickly, pulled on her dressing gown and picked up the coal poker from next to the unlit fire.

As the key twisted fully in the lock, she braced the weapon to her side.

The door slowly pushed open. O'Brien froze. Before she had time to deliver a glancing blow with the blunt weapon in her hands, she fortunately had a split second to register the face of who'd entered her room.

"Are you bleedin' crazy? Yer could've had yer head caved in!" she cursed, chucking the instrument to the side of the room with a loud clatter as the adrenaline seethed from her veins.

"I'm sorry," Cora said, stepping in awkwardly and pushing the door shut behind her.

O'Brien gained control of her senses and pulled her gown around her more tightly as she realised it had fallen open in the interval, inadvertently revealing her nightgown. She also remembered that her hair was only clipped loosely at the back of her head, falling in thick gentle curls passed her shoulders. Propriety told her that she should at least pin it up but she was actually too much in shock from the unexpected events of the last few minutes that she couldn't bring herself to be too bothered about it.

Besides which, she could hardly think about propriety after the way she had just spoken to the Countess of Grantham!

"How d'ya get in?" she asked, only slightly more softly.

"It's amazing where you can get with money and a smile," Cora told her, intending it to be ironinc but not realising the implication of her words until they lingered in the air. O'Brien rolled her eyes.

"Did you flutter you eyelashes too?"

Cora bit the inside of her cheek and resisted the urge to comeback with some sort of retort as O'Brien moved back to sit on the side of the bed. Silence reigned, as did confusion, and O'Brien wondered what in the world had possessed Her Ladyship to travel umpteen miles into town and break into her room. Especially after the way they had left things earlier that day…

"Does his Lordship know that you're frequenting some low rate boarding room above some dingy public house?"

Her tone was cutting as she tried to deal with the unexpectedness of the other woman's arrival; she had spent most of the afternoon trying to force herself to accept that there was a very good chance she might never see her mistress again and now, not even a few hours later, she was standing but a few feet away from her.

Cora removed her hat and placed it down on the side table. "No."

O'Brien flashed her eyebrows upwards with unsubtle sarcasm. "Secrets in marriages...that's where all the problems start-" she regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth and she immediately acknowledged how fully inappropriate they were. The comment was far from well received by her mistress and Sarah flicked her eyes up with a small but genuine, "sorry".

"Don't be," Cora shrugged, "…you're right after all," she stated, despite the pain it caused. She continued to stand, awkwardly, in the middle of the room. There were moments of unending silence as the full realisation of where the hell she was started to set in. She could feel a nervous warmth blush her cheeks; she realised how totally out of her depth she was.

"May I?" she asked O'Brien, indicating her coat, which although unbuttoned, served no reprieve from the warmth which flooded her body. It felt completely surreal for the tables to be turned and for Cora to be asking permission from her maid, but as with being a guest on anyone else's territory she was always obliged to maintain her manners and even now it would have felt wholly inappropriate not to ask first.

O'Brien, of course, obliged- having, however, to suppress every well-nurtured instinct to get up and help her ladyship remove the garment and hang it somewhere suitable. She managed to resist and just watched as Cora removed the coat herself and draped it over the table with her hat. O'Brien noted the action with surprise; her movements were resigned, uncaring for formality or convention- another signal that today, both their worlds truly had been turned upside down.

"Would you like a drink?" O'Brien asked, even though the only thing that she had to offer was a warm bottle of brandy which she had kept in her dresser drawer back at Downton for years.

"No. Thank you," she replied, feeling like she had already had enough to drink that evening, such was her need for Dutch courage to leave her family in the drawing room after dinner and ask the new driver to take her to the place where he had brought O'Brien earlier in the day. As much as Sarah wanted to douse the confusion in her brain, and numb her senses with the heat of the liquor, she resisted the urge- knowing that she'd likely drink more than was perhaps wise.

Cora remained standing, uncomfortably so, at the end of the bed as the silence consumed them once again. She was unsure what she was even doing there and O'Brien sure as hell had no clue either, perplexed as to why Cora had left her family and so soon after dinner, judging by the fact that she was still wearing her evening gown- the one she had pressed for her only the previous evening.

"Sit down, would ya." O'Brien asked, her brisk tone actually heartening Cora, rather than putting her at odds. She done as asked, moving slowly towards the other woman and tentatively sitting down on the bed next to her.

"So what d'ya want?"

Cora turned sideways to look O'Brien in the eye; her eyebrows raised in attempt at reproach her maid's tone, which had surprised her somewhat, but she actually found herself trying to suppress a grin with a mocking pout.

O'Brien fought the distraction of the taut blushing lips, ignoring the subtle chiding from her mistress.

"Well?" O'Brien pushed. The grin seemed to thaw from Cora's lips as she looked closely at the other woman. Her mind swarmed with thoughts that she didn't know how to process and in that moment she realised she was hopelessly lost.

"I don't know," she finally admitted, the words almost a confession to herself. What was she actually doing here?

She stared at the floor in front of them, crossing one leg over the other and bringing her hands to rest in her lap as she toyed mindlessly with her fingers. O'Brien watched her attentively; taking in every small gesture and every small fleckle of expression as she waited for Cora to speak again.

"Do you know...I was sat there, this evening, at the dinner table...my whole family around me...and I'd never felt more alone."

O'Brien made no attempt to speak or interrupt. She just sat, quietly, patiently…

"And I then I thought, 'it's fine'...because I'll go up to my room, and O'Brien will be there, waiting for me...and she'll listen to me, waffling on about some…inane, selfish…rubbish...and then she'll talk to me as she pulls the clips from my hair...and she'll make me laugh, even when she's not trying to. And she'll undress me, so carefully. And everything's quiet. And it's just the two of us. And...I won't feel alone anymore..."

Cora finally looked round at the other woman, swallowing hard as she became overwhelmed with the intensity of the moment. Sarah looked at her deeply, her expression so intense that Cora wanted to lose herself in those dark enigmatic eyes.

They were sitting so close and Cora, without even realising it, had leant in ever so slightly.

"Come back," she whispered, her breath stalling with weight of the emotion pressing on her heart.

It seemed like an eternity before the other woman spoke. "I can't." The regret in Sarah's voice was profound and Cora could feel her heart constricting in her chest.

"Please," she pleaded, so close to the other woman that the sides of their bodies were pressed fully to one another's. Sarah shook her head, tortured.

"_Please_," Cora whispered desperately, leaning her forehead against the other woman's head.

Sarah turned so that their foreheads were pressed together. She opened her eyes as Cora's hand shakily reached up to cup her face.

"Please come back to me, Sarah…"

* * *

><p>AN: Just one part left now!

Hope you've enjoyed it so far. Thanks for reading and thank you very much to anybody who has replied.

Will update as soon as possible...


	11. The Symmetry of Women Part I

A/N: There was only supposed to be one part left but I've had to split it into two because it's so long!

This is now a **defnite M rated story**- I apologise in advance for the naughtiness, it just sort of spiralled...!

Hope you enjoy- it's taken me aaaaages to write and has proved quite tricky at times, so I hope it's turned out alright. It would be nice to know what you think :)

Thanks for the replies to the last part.

Again to reiterate- **strong adult content.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part Eleven: The Symmetry of Women (Part I) <strong>

Cora leant forward quite suddenly and pressed her lips hard against Sarah's. _Please come back to me Sarah_…It was full of passion and desperation and she couldn't help the small whimper that she made as Sarah began to move her lips beneath her own. Neither of them could think- at least about nothing except the sweet sensation of the other woman's warm lips against their own…about nothing except the desire, now ignited, now streaming through their veins…

Cora pulled Sarah's face closer, but the younger woman was forced to break away- only momentarily- to check that her mistress had not simply been overtaken in a fit of madness. Cora realised Sarah's questioning and felt grateful that she wasn't simply willing to take advantage of her vulnerability. She rested her forehead against hers once again, savouring the taste upon her lips; the taste she hadn't been able to stop herself thinking about since the brief moment they'd shared earlier that afternoon. She stroked her thumb against Sarah's cheek; committing totally, needing her completely, wanting her so badly and Sarah could see from the look in her eyes, that she had finally given up trying to fight her feelings.

She pulled Sarah's face to hers once again. This time her kiss was slow and deliberate- that was, until she felt the other woman begin to dominate, her tongue gliding gently against her top lip as the kiss deepened. Sarah moved one hand to grip Cora's waist and snaked the other around her lower back.

Cora allowed Sarah to take control, suddenly timid at the profundity of they were doing… she felt Sarah's hand move downwards from her waist to her hip, resting there for a moment before sleeking even lower to grip her thigh. She turned her hips as Sarah's hand guided her to do so and quickly slipped off her shoes. She felt Sarah's hand glide further down the silk of her skirt until it was low enough to dip underneath the material. Fingertips stroked firmly up the stockinged leg until they reached the intricate lace at the top, where material met with bare flesh. Cora moaned softly and moved her leg over Sarah's lap, her skirt slinking upwards as it rested upon the other woman's wrist and it was soon bunched up on both sides of her hips as she knelt either side of Sarah.

Cora was now higher than Sarah- whose hands were still splayed strongly at the top of her thighs. Her palms shifted firmly upwards until she grasped her buttocks, causing her mistress to gasp. Cora held Sarah's face in her hands, reaching her fingertips into her hair and slowly leaning down to drip little kisses against her damp lips, looking into her eyes the whole time. She couldn't remember the last time she felt as sexy as she did in that moment, with Sarah's eyes not leaving hers for a second, and the other woman's hands placed so intimately that she could feel herself becoming incredibly aroused at the thought of what those fingers could, and inevitably _would_, do to her…

It was all so wrong; to make love in the symmetry of her own image, to breach the vows of her marriage, to defy the formalities of their positions. It was all so wrong…

So why then, could she think of nothing _but _making love in the symmetry of her own image?

Why then, was she so _willing_ to ignore the vows of her marriage?

Why then, did the fact of Sarah being so low in society- so different to her- only serve to make the woman more real, more alluring, more _beautiful?_

The answer was right in front of her.

Cora's attention was stolen by the disappointment she felt as Sarah retract her intimate touch but she was reassured when she felt the hands reach around her back to start undoing her dress, flicking the buttons open with proficient skill. As she reached the last one, Sarah's fingers ebbed down until she grasped two handfuls of the dress from where it was resting against her mistress's thighs and guided it up her body, prizing it over her shoulders until she was completely free of the garment.

Cora felt suddenly exposed as she sat, straddling her maid- her chest heaved over her tight corset and she bit her lip in nervous tension- suddenly paralysed as Sarah looked at her with such utter devotion. Sarah could sense her insecurity immediately and determined to make her feel loved; she wrapped her arms around Cora's back, so that there was no space between them and pressed hot, wet kisses against the tops of her breasts. Cora inhaled deeply as she tipped her head back, savouring every second of the unbelievably sensual feeling. Her skin tingled with every kiss Sarah's lips burnt against it. Oh god, she could never get enough of this feeling…

Thinking her to be adequately distracted, Sarah started toying with the laces at the back of the corset, causing Cora to sit up and lean over the other woman, "uh uh" she teased with mischievous smile. Sarah grinned and halted her efforts as Cora slinked her own fingers around the collar of the other woman's dressing gown "…_my_ turn…" she said, and slid the garment down her arms, leaving it to rest on the bed behind them.

"Lay back," she whispered, savouring the confidence that Sarah's kisses had given her.

Sarah reached up to give Cora a lingering kiss and then lay back as ordered, her toes just about reaching the floor still.

Cora placed her fingers in the small dip at the bottom of Sarah's neck, slowly stroking her fingers down her chest, registering every shallow breath her maid took until she felt the gentle thrumming of her heart beneath her nightdress. She skimmed her fingers lower, across her concealed abdomen until she reached the point where the dress became trapped beneath her own body, seated over Sarah's lap. Using both hands, she pulled the skirt carefully from beneath her and glided the soft material in the reverse journey her fingers had just taken. Sarah helped, arching her back and then her shoulders, before moving her arms up above her head as Cora pulled the item over her and threw it carelessly to the floor at the other side of the bed.

She tried to control her own incessant heartbeat as she saw the woman beneath her for the first time- naked except for her underwear- and time seemed to freeze…

Sarah reached out for Cora's hands, linking their fingers just as they had earlier that day; their slender digits flexing and dancing together as they both watched. Sarah tugged her and she took the hint, grinning and leaning down to press her lips to hers. If she had taken the time to think about it she would have said she _must _be dreaming, but as Cora deepened the kiss she knew that this really _was _happening…

Cora deepened the kiss and with the feel of the other woman's bare breasts pressed against her corset, it was all so unimaginably erotic. She suddenly regretted not letting Sarah remove the garment before.

It was almost as if Sarah had read her mind, as she felt the younger woman's hands release from her grasp and instead accommodate themselves against the back of her corset, tugging hurriedly at the laces. She smiled against the kiss and Sarah stopped and looked at her lady.

"What?" she asked, intrigued.

"You," Cora smiled and gave her a quick kiss. Sarah's heart fluttered with pride. She renewed her efforts on the ties, not taking her eyes from Cora's. Their faces were so close and Cora stroked Sarah's hair, her eyes taking in every inch of her face. How had she not _seen_ this woman before? Her eyes dipped down to look at Sarah's body, her breasts were amazing- so full and soft and she finally couldn't resist the urge to touch; she cupped the deep curves and then grazed her thumb over the taut nipples, causing Sarah to gasp. The younger woman was forced to redouble her efforts on the corset, quickly unbuckling the clips and tugging the item away from Cora's body so that she was left in only her pretty white camisole and lacy white underwear.

Desperately seeking control, Sarah pressed her lips against Cora's as she suddenly sat up, pushing the American backwards at the same time, until they were sitting up again. Their bare thighs rested against each other's as Cora continued to straddle her and Sarah continued to kissed her with an intensity unlike anything Cora ever experienced...

Her tongue slipped over Cora's as her fingers pressed against her wet underwear and Cora moaned loudly at the unexpected touch. Sarah smirked, satisfied that she had regained dominance…now she couldn't wait to see this woman writhing in ecstasy- just seeing the pleasure on her face at that restrained touch was so erotic- who knew how she would look when Sarah's fingers were pressed deep inside her…

Sarah drew her fingers away from the underwear, causing Cora to whimper.

"Patience…" Sarah teased, her fingers sloping slowly up the back of Cora's neck and found her hair. The maid silently counted out the pins as she pulled them from her tresses and the dark curls fell softly against her mistress's pale shoulders, every gentle touch causing her to shudder. Cora closed her eyes, pressing a delicate kiss to Sarah's cheek as she relaxed against her, burying her face in the warmth of the other woman's neck.

She draped her arms around the younger woman's shoulders and breathed butterfly kisses below her ear, before whispering, "I don't feel alone anymore". It was almost inaudible but it made Sarah's heart skip a beat. Tonight at the very least, they would be close enough to almost feel as one…

Cora's bare neck lay exposed, her hair cascading across her back and Sarah took full advantage, suckling tender kisses down the skin. Her mistress's reaction was apparent, mostly in the way her thighs clenched against the sides of Sarah's hips and the maid couldn't contain herself any longer; she quickly turned the top halves of their bodies so that she could carefully lay Cora down beneath her on the bed, her head lying against the plush pillows. The younger woman adjusted her position until she hovered over her, kneeling between the American's legs.

Cora tentatively raised a hand and stroked her fingertips along Sarah's collarbone, somehow needing to convince herself that this was really happening. Sarah reached between them and captured Cora's hand, guiding it down the length of Cora's own torso, leaving her mistress mildly shocked as their hands ebbed lower…

"Touch yourself..." Sarah whispered.

She released her grip, pressing an encouraging kiss to Cora's lips and watched her face as she paused for a second, before timidly moving her hand to continue its journey down her abdomen until she felt the top of her underwear, her fingers slowly dipping beneath…She gasped.

Sarah watched every fleckle of her expression as she touched herself and they both found themselves becoming incredibly aroused at the entirely new feeling of watching and being watched.

Sarah then reached down to glove her hand over Cora's, making her press herself harder and faster and Cora whimpered as the pleasure intensified…

Cora slipped her own hand away, allowing Sarah total dominance of her sex and she cried out as the other woman's fingers suddenly entered her.

Barely able to think, Cora slowly grinded her hips, her entire body becoming feverish. She then brought her own wet fingers up between their bodies and rested them against Sarah's swollen lower lip. Sarah carefully took the fingers into her mouth; the taste of Cora every bit as good as she had imagined…

Cora moaned; Sarah's fingers had taken up a slower, deeper action within her sex and she sighed in frustration as she felt them withdraw from her completely.

"I want you naked," Sarah said, kissing her strongly as her hands clasped firmly against the other woman's petite waist; the hem of the cropped little camisole tickling the backs of her hands.

Sarah shifted her palms underneath the material until they were pressed either side of Cora's breasts and then slowly moved her hands over the pert mounds, clinching her hard nipples between her fingers. Cora breathed her satisfaction, her body shuddering at Sarah's ministrations. The American's own hands, growing confident, stroked delicate patterns along Sarah's abdomen, moving lower, as the younger woman suddenly grasped the bottom of her camisole and encouraged it upwards. Cora moved her arms above her head and Sarah paused as the garment rested against her mistress's wrists.

"Do you trust me?" Sarah asked, replaying the question that her mistress had earlier asked of her.

Cora nodded- her face totally sincere...but then, her expression suddenly changed, to one mingled with confusion and excitement, as she felt the cord of the camisole tighten around her wrists. Sarah grinned and bit her lip as she knotted the cord around the bedstead.

"Trust me," she said playfully, pressing a quick kiss to Cora's lips.

Cora's heart thudded in her chest, her body tingling in anticipation as she relaxed back into the pillows and waited for Sarah's next move…

* * *

><p>To be continued...<p> 


	12. The Symmetry of Women Part II

Boop! Happy New Year Folks. Soooooo... I have had this written for a while but the story still isn't finished! I think one more part and it will finally be done :P A final kick up the butt from your guys would help me so much to fiiiiinally write the conclusion to this. Thank you SO much for the replies- especially to LadyNobleSong, whose encouragement kept poking me to write this part. I reeeeeally hope it isn't a disappointment.

I can't wait to read the Sarah/ Cora fics I have been missing out on! Looking forward to catching up.

And once again **very very strong adult content. Can't stress it enough peeps! Please don't read if you don't like this sorta thing :) **

* * *

><p><strong>Part Twelve: The Symmetry of Women (Part II)<strong>

Sarah looked down upon her lady.

Cora's blue eyes reflected the wealth of desire that swarmed her own enamoured expression. Who knew that this illicit dream could ever become as true as it was in this moment, with the woman she had_ craved_ for so long, lying below her…waiting upon her every move.

Beneath her own ribs she could feel her heart shuddering to almost silence but she refused to allow herself to become overwhelmed with the pure emotion that was streaming through her at that moment; if she did, she could very well break a rule of a lifetime, and give into tears.

"I trust you," Cora whispered, sensing her hesitation. Her eyes flicked over Sarah's face.

The maid's heart tightened in her chest and she closed her eyes, exhaling upon the most glorious, genuine smile her mistress had ever seen.

Triggered back into movement, the younger woman slowly stroked her fingers down from Cora's wrists to her underarms, causing the American to shudder at the delicious friction. Sarah grinned, biting her own lip to contain her desire, before moving her face so close to her lady's and pressing their lips together. The kiss deepened within seconds and as Sarah's tongue glided into her mouth, Cora could feel her tummy tightening with want. The Englishwoman broke the kiss first, pulling back to look at her. There was a moment between them, before Cora suddenly leaned up to recapture the crimson lips above her- but as she did so, Sarah moved her face further back an inch; remaining just too far for the shackles to allow…

Sarah giggled at her frustration.

"You are wicked," Cora said; her cool American tone dancing over the other woman's skin like a butterfly upon a petal.

She relaxed back against the pillow, licking her lips seductively in a vain effort to tempt Sarah back to her. The maid shook her head slowly, before leaning down, bypassing the alluring cherry lips and instead pressing her own firmly beneath her mistress's jaw. Cora stretched her neck in joy as Sarah's kisses sidled gently downwards, her tongue accompanying, dampening the burning skin. The blush across Cora's chest was further roused as the heat between her legs intensified.

Sarah's hands acquainted themselves with the tiny waist beneath her, holding Cora firmly in place as her ministrations soon became occupied upon her breasts. Her ladyship gasped in pleasure, her heaving chest pushing a taut nipple harder into Sarah's mouth and the maid was forced to hold her mistress's waist more firmly against the sheets as her tongued flicked over the pinkish peak. Her hot breath brushed over the wetness as she exhaled, causing her mistress to whimper beneath her...She moved her attention to the other breast, leaving the nipples hard and wet and desperate for the absent mouth which suddenly started moving lower…

Cora moaned. And Sarah- feeling the sweet reactions in her own body- rested her blushed cheek against the other woman's tummy. Cora sighed, blinking heavily, as she attempted to regain some command over her body. After a second, the maid turned her face to press her lips flush against the smooth skin. Was she dead and didn't realise it; was this actually heaven?

Heaven- she realised quickly- was not a place she had ever been destined and therefore, that was not, in fact, the explanation for this current euphoria. For the first time in the maid's long, wearisome life, her beautiful mistress had allowed for her to express the one emotion which she had never in all her years been capable of experiencing; love.

Changing the sensations, Sarah grazed her teeth lightly along Cora's mid-drift, nipping lightly at her waist as her hands moved firmly downwards, reaching the edges of the glorious silk underwear…she stroked her fingers over the front of the dainty material, just as she had a little while before, and found the garments were truly sodden with desire. The Countess blushed at her blatant arousal and O'Brien grinned lustfully...

She moved back, onto her knees, her fingers locking around the edge of the knickers as she pulled them slowly down her mistress's stockinged thighs. Cora felt incredibly powerless as she held tighter to her shackles and allowed Sarah to see her completely and utterly vulnerable. She felt, rather than saw, her underwear being slid daintily over her feet before being tossed carelessly to the floor. Her maid's eyes did not leave her naked body for a single second and the intensity of her stare was so arousing and she felt ready to come just from her penetrating stare.

"Sarah…" she gulped. "Please, _darling…_"

Cora's words caused spasms between her lover's thighs.

Sarah moved down quickly, her body covering her mistress's completely as she captured her lips, kissing her deeply until she was breathless.

Cora suddenly cried out as she felt Sarah's fingers rubbing forcefully over her swollen clit.

Their bodies were so close together that Cora felt utterly consumed by the other woman, whose bare skin was draped so sexily against her own. The heat between them was intoxicating and at that moment, it was as though nothing else in the world existed except the two of them, engulfed in this beautiful expression of their love.

Cora gyrated her hips firmly against the fingers that pressed against her with such magnificent rhythm. Her eyes fluttered shut as she begin to feel the pleasure, so unimaginable, increasing inside of her, such that she thought she might die with the sweet intensity of it all.

Sarah's fingers worked deftly over the wet folds, never once entering her, for she was determined to show to Cora the sweet delicacy of being loved by a woman; the gentle adoration, the beautiful symmetry and the intimate knowledge of all the right spots and rhythms, which she was so obviously demonstrating. She smirked proudly, sure her ministrations were having the desired effect, judging by the pink blush that rouged her lover's cheeks as she whimpered and moaned in ecstasy.

Now was the time to finish her off. Sarah pressed one firm, quick kiss to Cora's lips before moving her mouth down the woman's tight body. Without any warning, her mouth replaced her fingers, and covered her mistress's throbbing sex. Cora arched her back, whimpering '_Sarah_' like a blind begging nymph as she clutched desperately to the camisole around her wrists. Sarah's tongue glided over her in thick, firm strokes, bringing the older woman rapidly back towards orgasm once again.

Sensing Cora's desperation, she focused fully on her aching clit, flicking her tongue quickly and surely until she was sure she could feel her tightening, ready to come. She reached a hand up to grasp her boob with her sticky fingers and as her tongue pressed hard over throbbing clit once more, Cora finally shattered.

She cried out on an open-mouthed moan, her wet centre pulsing as Sarah continued to lap at her, coaxing out every last second of her orgasm...

Sarah moved up to cradle her lover in her arms, kissing her softly…Cora's own scent was tangible upon her lover's lips and she felt the gentle aftershocks of orgasm intensify, such was the arousal the taste brought. "Oh Sarah…" she whispered. The younger woman reached up to her mistress's wrists, delicately tugging on the ties to release her from the restraints, before throwing the garment away with everything else; tossing it aside with their propriety, their resolve, their responsibilities. All that remained was the pure, unadulterated love which glowed between their naked souls.

Cora brought down her hands to delicately cup her lover's face, her fingertips softly stroking into her hairline as they both scrutinized every detail of the other's face; the subtle flecks and imperfections that were previously observed, but never fully appreciated.

Sarah turned her face and grasped Cora's fingers carefully, inspecting the pale wrist. She pressed her lips softly to the warm skin, wanting to make sure that the efforts of her lovemaking had not marked her in anyway. Cora felt her heart flurry with tenderness for this woman who caressed her so.

Had this always been their destiny?

Had they spent all these years building a connection which would inevitably lead to this most intimate relation?

Was it inevitable that she was always going to let herself be _taken _by her maid: her loyal companion; her dearest O'Brien; her beautiful Sarah?


End file.
